Today I had one of those moments where I was able
to articulate exactly what was in my head. This kind of moment only really
occurs once I am halfway through my first pint. And this moment was no exception!
A friend and I were discussing the Generation Y
article that was trending recently and pondering on how true it is that our
generation suffers from this sense of disillusionment with reality.
I felt compelled to capture the gist of our conversation
here.
Speaking as a Catholic, I want to believe that I
am striving to live my life in accordance with the teachings of Christ and that
I am not pursuing worldly things. However! Deep down inside me I am really
saying, “Man, I want to be great!”
I have an innate desire to be remembered, to make
history, to have people read my poems and stories and feel that my short time
on earth has made an impact. I desire purpose.
Perhaps it goes back to old Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Many of my generation in the first world, myself included, don’t
understand the reality of working to survive. Our parents have been there to provide
for us and we know that when push comes to shove we can put on a sad face and
go back home and we’ll get a cup of tea and a Marie Biscuit. To me this is what differentiates us from our
folks and even more, from their folks. Once they were out of the home that was it!
They were out in the cold, forging their own way. And to have a job, to be
putting bread on the table was enough of a success, enough of a purpose to fulfill them. As my friend stated in our discussion people were having children much
earlier back then. Now we have all this faff time and it makes us think too
much. It makes us terrified to commit to anything in the fear that it will be
the “wrong” thing and won’t give us that warm fuzzy feeling inside that makes
us know we’re on the right track.
So where does this leave us?
People who are great, I believe, are people who go
against the current culture. People who
choose to go their own way, not content with the status quo. That’s what we’ve
heard, over and over and that has “cursed” our thinking as a generation.
Because we ALL want to be that person. We want to bring down the system, bring
down the man, save the planet, write a blog!
But we’re not listening are we?
It’s true. To be great we need to go against the
culture. But the culture is screaming, BE GREAT!
And here’s the rub.
I believe that to be great in our generation we
have to choose to not be great. We need to embrace anonymity. Be an unknown saint.
Be okay with no one ever knowing your name. Just
be a blip in the chasm of the millennia.
I don’t think that anyone who was ever of any
significance chose to be great. They had a belief which they pursued with dogged perseverance.
They never said it was fun or fulfilling. Someone else told us that.
Thinking like that is terrifying. But that’s
because it’s been hammered into us that we’re special and unique and important
and everyone should care what we have to say.
I note this theme in the story of my life
recently, with Pope Francis and the way he is leading the Church toward a simpler way of existence, a more Christ like existence. There is a truth
in this way of thinking. Sure enough we find it in Matthew 20 verse 17, "So the last will be first, and the
first will be last.".
I believe
that once our generation can let go of the DESIRE to be great. We will find fulfillment That is the way to break our disillusionment. We've been told that’s
giving up.
I think that’s
nonsense.
If our goal
is to be happy and this obsessive pursuit of greatness is supposed to achieve
that goal, it’s not working.
So, be okay with
being unknown. That is what I am striving for in my own life and for the most
part failing miserably. Perhaps I’m failing by writing this blog. I am telling
myself if no one reads it then that’s okay. The pleasure was in the writing.
I’ll work on
it.
Ozymandias
I met a
traveller from an antique land
Who said:
"Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the
desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a
shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled
lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that
its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet
survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand
that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the
pedestal these words appear:
`My name is
Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my
works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing
beside remains. Round the decay
Of that
colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and
level sands stretch far away".
Percy Bysshe
Shelley
